Secrets
by Dyrne-Faemne
Summary: Young Blades" tv show. Jacqueline is on patrol with D'Artagnan when she becomes ill. He cannot risk her true identity to be exposed, so where can he take her?


Several of the young Musketeer cadets were training, the sounds of swords clanging filled the area. Duval stood watching them, making comments now and then. Inside Ramon was sitting at the table, writing another poem, as he talked to himself. Siroc was working on his latest invention, something to kill pain. A crousant, and cold meat sat in a plate untouched on the table.

Jacque stood by the head of her horse, talking softly to it. She was not aware of anything going on around her. What she wanted was to go out and be a girl for a change. She was itchy from the wrapping, and there was starch in her underwear. Therefore, she was a very cranky man.

D'Artagnan came up behind her, and smiled to himself. "We have patrol in an hour, want to go to lunch? Perhaps a picnic, I know just the spot." He leaned against the post by the stall.

Jacque turned and looked at him, with that now trademark scowl on her face. She did not want to look at him. Did not want to notice how handsome he was, how his eyes could melt her bones to jelly, or his touch gave her a tingling sensation. She looked at the masculine smiling lips; she wanted them to kiss her. Just stop it Jacque, you are a man, remember. You cannot like that womanizer that is an order.

"No, I was just going across the street for something. You don't give up, do you?" She scowled at him, and wished he would go away.

"No. When I want something, I do not give up. Why can't you give me a chance?" He smiled, and there was something else in those eyes. But she didn't see it.

"Because you are a cad, you chase all women."

"Well I wouldn't, if I had a girl of my own, a special girl." She turned to him, curling her lip.

"Then go find one. I'm not stopping you, find dozens of them, a harem if you like." He took another step closer. He put out a hand and touched her shoulder. He could see in her eyes that she didn't mean her words.

"Maybe I will. I promised your brother I would take care of you." His voice had softened, and there was no joking in his voice now.

"So, I don't need a guardian. I can take care of myself." She huffed, and turned back to her horse.

"Temper, temper. Maybe you need a spanking, young lady."

"Keep your voice down, don't even think of it, and stop calling me that!" She spun around and faced him again, her eyes flashing.

"No one is around; I wouldn't endanger you like that." He glanced behind him to see if there was anyone around.

"I prefer someone more like Siroc." She said, and then turned and smiled at him. He was taken back by her reply.

"Oh, you do huh?" She couldn't possibly mean that, could she? He wondered.

"Yeah, he is a gentleman." She liked Siroc, and he was a nice guy. If she hadn't already had feelings for a certain dark eyed scandrel.

"Good thing he doesn't know you are a girl, then. We have next week off, how about you accompany me to my fathers. You can be a girl, and wear pretty dresses, and no worries about the Cardinal." She could not say she was not tempted, but she could not trust herself with him, like that. She would probably fall in love with him.

"No, I have other plans." He was not happy, as he wanted to introduce her to his father, and his aunt. He was not giving up.

The four musketeers saddled up and rode out on patrol, broken into their usual teams. The weather was nice, warm and sunny, neither of them aware of what was going on back at the academy, and the palace.

They had ridden for a few hours and they had talked about work, when Jacque became unsteady in her saddle. D'Artagnan, always keeping an eye on her, grew concerned. He moved closer to her, and touched her arm.

"Jacqueline? Are you alright?"

"I don't feel well." She whispered. She slumped and he caught her, pulling her over onto his saddle. He looked into her eyes and saw the glassy look. What was wrong with her? He touched her cheek with his free hand, and felt the heat that radiated from her skin. He could not believe it, she was sick. He could not take her back to the Academy, and let a doctor look at her. Then all would know her secret. Then it came to him, the answer and he pulled her closer and rode off.

Ramon and Siroc rode in, and looked at the pale Captain Duval standing there. They dismounted and came over. Both knew something was wrong, and wondered what it was. Could it be something happened to D'Artagnan or Jacque?

"What is it, sir?"

"Well Siroc, it seems the young king is sick. He has a high fever, and he collapsed earlier. His valet has it, and they say that even the Cardinal has come down with it."

"What is it? Maybe I can help." He was curious. "Where are D'Artagnan and Jacque?" Duval looked around.

"I don't know, they should have been back by now. Well if they aren't back in an hour, you two go look for them."

"Yes, Captain." Ramon, went down the hall towards his room. Siroc stood there.

"Captain, will the king be alright?"

"I hope so, Siroc."

Hours had passed, and it was dinnertime. Lamps were lit against the darkness, and warm inviting fires burned in the fireplaces. The night was turning cool. A loud knocking at the front door and the butler went to answer. Upon opening it, he could not believe his eyes.

"Why it's the young master. Come in, your father will want to see you." The sound of familiar heavy footsteps coming down the hall, alerted D'Artagnan of his fathers being home. He moved into the entrance, as his father came into view. Charles D'Artagnan came into the room and smiled at seeing his son.

"Francois, what are doing home? I expected you next week. What happened to your friend?" He nodded towards Jacque.

"He is sick, we need your help."

"You do not have to ask. Whatever I can do." He followed his son, who carried his burden upstairs, to an empty bedroom. D'Artagnan Jr. laid her down softly on the bed. His father came up next to him. He turned and saw one of the servants. "Go get a doctor, now."

"D'Artagnan took off Jacques jacket, and noticed his father standing there. He turned his head, knowing it was time to tell his father everything.

"Ah father, there is something I have to tell you. But you must swear to keep it to yourself, and tell the doctor to do so, as well."

"Of course, my son." Nevertheless, he looked puzzled.

"Jacque is really a girl."

"A girl?" He looked closely at the boy on the bed. As his son, loosen the tie on his hair, and began to remove the small boots. This must be quite the story, perhaps as good a one as he and his friends, Athos, Porthos, Aramis use to get into.

"Yes, she is pretending to be a boy, for protection against the Cardinal. She is wanted for murder, but she did not do it. She killed the captain of his guards who murdered her father before her eyes."

"Interesting, so you have been helping her?"

"Yes. I won't let you turn her in." He said with a touch of danger in his voice.

"I have no intention of doing so. I am proud of you. Now we must get her well. I will see what I can do to fix her problem."

"Thanks father." His father left for a few minutes and returned with a nightgown in his hand. He handed it to his son. One of the maids stood just behind him.

"Let Lizette change her into that. She will be more comfortable. We can talk, while we wait for the doctor. I am sure there is much more you haven't told me."

"I could use a drink, and some food." His father put his hand on his shoulder and led him out the door, and down the stairs. "Also could you send word to Duval, that we are here, and that Jacque is ill, and I will bring him back when he is well?"

"Sure, no problem. Come, let us talk. I have missed you."

Charles D'Artagnan sat in his study watching the fire burning in the fireplace. He wondered what he could do to help the young woman, which he had thought was a young man. He knew something that Duval did not, and he knew his old friend would not be happy when he learned the truth. A girl in the ranks, what was the world coming to. He took a sip of his brandy and leaned back in his chair, throwing one leg over the arm of the chair. He was sitting there when his son walked in, having grown tired of pacing upstairs. Charles looked up and smiled.

"Sit down son, and have a drink. It will all turn out all right, the doctor will set her to rights soon enough." Francois Charles D'Artagnan sat down on the settee and leaned forward, interlocking his fingers together in front of him, as he stared into the fire.

"I hope so, father. Are you sure the doctor won't tell anyone?" His father just raised an eyebrow at him.

"He won't talk; he doesn't know anything about her. I told him she was a cousin of ours, nothing more. She is safe here; I don't entertain Mazarin in my home."

Both men grew silent as they sat there, just enjoying being together, without the tension of the past. Footsteps were heard coming down the stairs, and Francois jumped to his feet and walked out into the hall. Charles followed his son and waited for the doctor. The older man, with the thinning white hair, and chubby face looked at the two D'Artagnans.

"Well?"

"Well my lord, she is very sick. In a week she will be better, another week before she can be around anyone. Being such a pretty little thing, she will not want people to see her till then."

"What are you talking about?" Ask young D'Artagnan in exasperation.

"She has the chicken pox." D'Artagnan senior broke into a laugh, and shook his head.

"We thought it was something really bad."

"It is for grownups, it can be very bad. She is out of her head with fever, and your maid is working to try to bring it down. Tomorrow she will break out, and I have left a bottle of lotion to put on her sores. Her fever will go up every night, and watch her, make sure she doesn't break those sores."

"She will be even grumpier. I will watch her. Can I see her?" The doctor looked at the young man, and he smiled.

"Yes, you can see your lady." D'Artagnan lifted another eyebrow at that one. His lady? Could he have feelings for the girl? He turned to see the doctor out, as his son ran up the stairs.

Back at the Castle, the young king was lying in his bed, looking in a mirror. Queen Ann was sitting on the edge of his bed. He had spots of lotion on the exposed areas of his body. His hair had been tied back and he was irritable. The room was quiet; he was in no mood for music, or anything else.

Mother, why did I have to get chicken pox? I am a king." He began to scratch and his mother grabbed his hand. 

"Well darling, everyone gets them, not just peasants."

"But I wanted to go hunting today." He began to rub his cheek, and again his mother grabbed his hand.

"Yes, Louis, but you can do that when you are well."

"Where is Mazarin, why isn't he pestering me with presence?" He glanced around the room, and heard his mother laugh.

"Louis, Mazarin has them too. He is in bed, with a fever and is miserable." Louis's eyes shown brightly and he smiled and clapped his hands.

"Wonderful news indeed. Serves him right, he is out of my hair for a while. Who else has it?" His mother smoothed a wrinkle out of her gown and looked out the window.

"Well your manservant, and one maid. Then there is one of your musketeers."

"Who?" Louis sat up in bed, and pulled the cord to call for a servant. "Which one, not D'Artagnan?"

"No Louis, its Jacque."

"That is not acceptable either. Have my doctor see to him, can't have my musketeers being sick."

"He isn't here; he's at D'Artagnans estate, with young D'Artagnan."

"Good. Do you think we could put itching power in Mazarins lotion?" 

In the Academy Ramon was sitting at the table with Siroc. They were going on patrol soon, and were waiting for Duval. The older man came into the room, his cane making a tapping sound for every other step he took. He sat down and looked at two of his favorites.

"I just received word from D'Artagnan the senior. Our young friends are staying with him. Seems that Jacque has caught the chicken pox, and is very sick. Therefore, when you are finished your patrol, I want you to go and check on the two of them. Make sure Jacque is all right." Both young men looked at him, and Siroc was busy thinking of a new invention, perhaps something that would help with the itch, maybe something that could be drunk. His mind was twirling with ideas. While Ramon was grinning, as he ate some of his favorite cheese.

"Yes, how long can we stay?" Duval looked at Ramon sternly.

"You have three days, and no more. I need you here, and bring back D'Artagnan the younger with you. Jacque is well taken care of with my old friend." Duval got up and walked slowly towards the back to where the other cadets were practicing. Ramon nudged Siroc.

"We get a few days off, and see D'Artgnan, not the younger again."

"Will you quit referring to him that way. You make our friend unhappy when you make it seem he doesn't matter, only his father."

"Do I? I admire our friend. But his father is a legend, I hope to one day be like him." 

Jacqueline stood there, staring at her friends. Ramon moved farther into the room, and came over to her, his eyes roaming over her, and finally settling on her face. Siroc came in and stood next to Ramon.

"Why?"

"What are you gentlemen doing in my room?" Siroc began to study her, like he did his experiments, and Jacqueline suddenly felt itchier. Where was D'Artagnan, either of them? Siroc walked around her, studying her, as Ramon stood there, chewing his lower lip.

"Why weren't we told?"

"Because…I…" At that moment, D'Artagnan rushed into the room, seeing his friends there in front of Jacqueline. He moved over quickly, grabbed their arms, and tried to pull them away.

"Come, you want to catch the pox?" Both of his friends pulled away. Ramon turned on his friend.

"Why didn't you tell us? We have known each other, how long?"

"That's right my friend, Ramon and I can't believe you would do this to us." D'Artagnan glanced at Jacqueline for a moment, she just lifted an eyebrow. Hey he thought, that's my habit.

"Tell you what, we three will go downstairs and have a drink, and leave her here, to scratch. I will explain everything then." All three turned to Jacqueline who was, trying to scratch her back. She stopped after seeing D'Artagnan narrow his eyes at her.

The three men left the room, and Jacqueline listened to the footsteps going down the hall. She glanced in the mirror, and shook her head. Now her secret was out, what would happen to her now. She went and sat down on the bed, just as the door opened once more, and a maid came in, carrying a tray with some soup, bread and some wine. She knew she would not eat the soup; it hurt her mouth, as she had them inside her mouth too, as well as in her ears.

D'Artagnan led them down the stairs and into a wood paneled sitting room. Siroc looked around the room, his eyes stopping on a shelf of books on one wall. He sat down on one of the damask covered chairs and turned to his friend. He picked up a pillow covered in fine needlepoint there, and his fingers kept ruffling the fringe on it.

"All right D'Artagnan, we want answers." He watched D'Artagnan moving nervously around the room, pacing.

"Would you like something to eat, first?" He asks as he turned and looked over at them. He went over to the pull rope and was fixing to pull it when Ramon spoke up.

"No, my amigo, answers first, then food." Ramon motioned for his friend to sit down with them. D'Artagnan sat down on the settee and looked from one to the other.

"Alright, but you must not tell anyone. Jacqueline, is innocent. She has been pretending to be Jacque to be safe from Mazarin, and his guards. No one knows about this, except us, and my father." Ramon jumped up, and his eyes flashed, as he looked down at his friend.

"Jacque is Jacqueline, a woman? You kept her secret, and didn't let us know? What kind of friend are you, keeping such a secret?" He turned to Siroc. "He could have told us."

"I agree, but it is not his secret to tell. It is hers. I have had my suspicions, for awhile now." D'Artagnan turned to him, surprised.

"You did? You never said anything." He had blown it; they had not known her secret, only that she was…Jacqueline, not Jacque. He mentally kicked himself for speaking. Jacqueline was going to kill him.

"But I don't miss much, though you all think I do. Therefore, I am not surprised at her secret. But you both could have trusted us, not to tell, or turn her in."

"We would never do that to her, she is our friend too, one of us." Ramon said softly, but with conviction.

"How is she D'Artagnan? She didn't look too good a moment ago." D'Artagnan looked at Siroc, hearing his softly spoken words.

"She is itchy and miserable of course."

"Poor petite." Ramon stood up, and smiled. "Maybe I should create a poem for her." Both of his friends shook their heads no. "But why? It would cheer her up."

"Let's have some food. All you can eat, Ramon. First, I must go up and see Jacqueline. I must tell her, she is safe. She was worried what you would say, if you knew."

"Why did she? We are not heartless, we would protect her. Why she is very beautiful, if only I had known…no wonder you were so often with her." He smiled at his friend, and glanced at Siroc.

"Don't even think of it, Ramon. This lady is off limits to you." Ramon laughed good-naturedly.

"Ah, I see my friend. You have staked a claim to her heart. Good for you. Leaves more beautiful women in Paris for Siroc and myself." He sat back down to wait, and Siroc went over to the shelves of books. He scanned their titles and then pulled one from the shelf.

He knocked lightly on the door, and then opened it. Jacqueline looked up guiltily as she stopped scratching her stomach. He came in and shut the door. He walked over to the rocking chair where she sat, and he sat down on the side of the bed facing her.

"Will they turn me in?" Her voice was resigned, and empty of emotion.

"No, they care about you too much. You are a Musketeer, remember?" She glanced over at him and smiled.

"I am glad. I care for them too. What happens now, Francois?" He glanced at the bed, as the covers were pulled down, and saw pink spots on the white sheets where she had lain.

"We continue as we were, No one else knows. My father is working on it too. Perhaps by the time you are well, and can return to Paris, he will have fixed it. If not we will continue to work on it." She rocked a few times, and then stopped.

"I am tired of hiding."

"My fathers offer still holds, you can go almost anywhere, and stay until things are settled here." She saw the warmth and love in his eyes. There was no acting here, it was the real man. The one man that she truly could say she loved. She had thought she loved King Charles, but it was nothing compared to the all-consuming love, she burned with, for this man. She had almost left him, and he had almost let her go, wanting her to be happy.

"No, I don't want to leave. Is that why you wanted me to go to England?" He shook his head slowly.

"Part of it was that, the other was I wanted you happy. You seemed to think he would make you happy." She remembered that night in the small house, and his words. The look in his eyes had confused her, now she understood.

"I am staying." D'Artagnan looked her over, and though she was spotted, he thought there was never a more beautiful woman at that moment in time. He wanted to take her into his arms, but dared not, he did not want to hurt her. Soon she would be well.

"Jacqueline, you know I care for you?"

"Of course." She began to rock again, as she looked away.

"I don't just care for you. My feelings are…deeper." She looked over at him, and started rocking harder.

"Francois…you are a wonderful man."

"Are you saying you don't care for me?" He spoke with a sadness, which was also in his eyes.

"No, I can't say that. For I do." D'Artagnan smiled and stood up and then knelt down before her. He reached into his pocket and took out a small velvet box, and offered it to her. She took it and opened it. Inside was a dainty yellow gold ring, a diamond with two small sapphires on either side of it. She looked over at D'Artagnan, and there were tears standing in her eyes.

"I love you Jacqueline, will you marry me? I promise to always be there for you, to look out for you, and also be your best friend." She started to reach out, and then dropped her hand. She could not believe he was proposing to her, as bad as she looked.

"I love you too, since almost from the start. Yes I will marry you." He got up on his knees, in his happiness he went to kiss her, only to have her push him away. He fell against the side of the bed, and he again moved forward and stopped, smiling at her.

"You wont regret it, Jacqueline, my love. When you are well I will show up, how much I love you." She nodded as she saw him through the blurr of tears.

"I will try to make a good wife for you." They sat there for a long time. Until D'Artagnan remembered their friends waiting for him. He stood up, and looked down at her.

"I forgot our friends, are waiting for me. They are hungry. Put that ring on, and wear it. It was my mothers, and she left it to me. Now it is yours." He watched her slip it on carefully. He turned and left the room, his broad smile and the happiness in his eyes would certainly light up the room when he went to his friends.

He was walking down the stairs when his father came around the corner, seeing him he stopped and waited.

"Well my son, you certainly are happy. Because your friends are here?" D'Artagnan looked at his father, and suddenly his father knew the answer. He grabbed his son in a hug. "I am happy for you, for you both."


End file.
